


Thirsters

by voleuse



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-02
Updated: 2005-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 16:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Into each other they mature and grow.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirsters

**Author's Note:**

> AU, spoilers for 1.08 and 1.10. Title, summary, and headings taken from Rainer Maria Rilke's _The Lovers_.

_i. all becomes spirit_   
EIGHT AND A HALF MONTHS

The nice thing about Charlie is he never makes a big deal about the pregnancy. Sure, he talks about it, teases her when she tries to carry something too heavy or reach a little too high, but he doesn't treat her like she's about to crumble to pieces. Talking to Charlie is a little like a vacation for Claire.

Also, he's funny.

So when he appears while she's finishing her laundry and offers to help, she hands him her armful of wash and leads the way.

It's only when they clasp hands on peanut butter, and her fingers graze his wrist, that she realizes that Charlie isn't just interested in her wit. She can feel his pulse quicken beneath her fingertips, and something in his face _shifts_. She recognizes, with a thrill of shock, lust.

She doesn't realize until the afternoon that she returns it.

He kneels in front of her with an empty jar, dipping his finger into air and slipping it into his mouth. As his cheeks hollow and his face slackens with (imagined) pleasure, a long-forgotten thrum makes its way down Claire's spine, up her thighs, and pools low in her belly.

For a moment, she forgets everything except the feeling, then Charlie's eyes open, and he offers her the empty jar.

She thinks she can refuse. Even after she's pretended to take a taste of peanut butter, she almost does. But he holds out his hand, and he looks so hopeful, that she assents. Places her hand in his and lets him help her off the sand.

She tries, decidedly, to ignore the feel of his callused palms against her skin.

_ii. their forms tremblingly orbit_   
A WEEK AND A HALF TILL

The problem with Charlie, Claire thinks, is that he's _always there_. It's not something she'd considered before moving to the caves; who ever thinks she'll get tired of a guy who just wants to make her happy? Because, she knows, that's exactly what Charlie wants.

For now.

But instead of feeling pleased, or flattered, like she was just a few days ago, Claire is irritated verging on extremely fucking annoyed. She feels heavy, and clumsy, and her feet are always sore, and she keeps getting headaches, and she misses her pajamas, which are probably tangled at the bottom of the ocean.

Charlie, hovering over her concerned and unerringly cute, is not something she can deal with at the moment.

It's not so bad all the time. Mid-morning, after she's managed to bathe and comb her hair into something resembling order, Charlie appears with a wink and a grin, and she remembers how much she likes being around him. She tells herself the annoyance is part and parcel of the pregnancy hormones, and he's really very sweet.

And they talk about nothing for an hour or so.

Then her back cramps up, or she looks for her feet and only sees the giant lump of her torso, or she catches the smell of burnt pork.

The fog descends again, and she snaps at Charlie, turns her back to the hurt expression in his eyes.

She tells herself it's easier not to get too attached.

_iii. to endure each other outright_   
POST-PARTUM

The thing about Charlie that drives her insane is that he's always there being so, well, _Charlie_. In the days and weeks after the baby is born, he hovers over her, as he did before. Instead of being annoyed, however, Claire is warmed by it.

By the way he averts his eyes when she breast-feeds. By the way he brings her water, still, and waits for her to take a sip before he drinks his own. By the way he sings to the baby, wordlessly, telling her he's never been much good at writing lyrics.

Claire learns to relax, to trust the others to protect the baby. Jack checks in on his littlest patient every day. After much coaxing, Shannon discovers that babies' heads aren't in danger of falling off if someone other than their mother holds them. Sun, who seems to be slowly picking up English, is a marvel at rocking the baby to sleep, and Walt can't wait to play peek-a-boo over breakfast.

And through it all, Charlie is behind her, beside her. Holding her hand, holding the baby, murmuring encouragement.

After much deliberation, Claire makes a decision about Charlie. One morning, while he's out fishing with Hurley and Boone, she leaves the baby with Sun. She finds Jack and Kate at the beach, and though her appearance interrupts their conversation, they both smile at her.

"I wanted to ask you something, Jack," Claire ventures. "A medical something."

Kate takes a half-step back. "Should I--"

"No, it's all right," Claire says. "I don't mind."

Kate and Jack exchange a glance, then Jack shrugs. "What's up?"

"I was wondering how long I should wait, before I..." She can feel heat stealing across her cheeks. "Before I can, you know."

"Before you can..." Jack's gaze skips over her shoulder and to the shore, where the boys are fishing. "Oh." Then _he_ flushes, looking down at his feet with an embarrassed chuckle. "Right."

Kate's staring at Jack with amusement, and Jack's blush emboldens Claire.

"Is it safe?"

"Perfectly safe, no complications at delivery," Jack stammers. "As long as you feel comfortable, it should be all right."

"Okay." Claire nods thoughtfully. "Thanks."

She takes another look at Charlie, tripping in the sand, shouting at another escaped fish, and feels her lips widen into a smile.

_iv. into one another sink_   
TWO MONTHS PAST

That evening, sitting by the bonfire, Claire watches Hurley dance with the baby. She leans sideways, against Charlie, and he slips an arm around her shoulder. They sit like that for a while, then the baby starts crying, and Hurley hands him over to Claire.

Charlie disappears when she starts to feed the baby, and Claire feels the air press coolly where his arm used to be.

Before she goes to sleep, she pulls Kate aside, and asks for a favor.

The next morning, after a breakfast of fish and fruit, Claire asks Sun and Rose to watch over the baby for a few hours. Then she treks to the beach, where the boys have just caught a fish.

She idles up to Charlie and taps him on the shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey." He grins, swipes saltwater off his forehead. "You look happy."

"I am." She grabs his hand, yanks him to the beach. "Take a walk with me."

He shrugs his consent and lets her drag him across the beach and onto one of the lesser-used paths of the jungle. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." Claire eyes a curiously scarred tree, then turns, and turns again, until they emerge in a small clearing. The trees above filter the sunlight to a faint green, and there's a flat rock protruding from the dirt. On it are three blankets, precisely folded, and a bottle of water. Claire spins, grins at Charlie. "Here we are."

She grabs the bottle of water and offers it to Charlie. He takes a gulp of water, then looks at Claire with curiosity. "And why, exactly, are we here?"

She answers his question by leaning up and brushing her lips against his.

Charlie freezes; then slowly, he sets down the bottle. Straightens, and bends his head slightly so that their lips are just millimeters apart.

Then, closer.

As the kiss deepens, Claire rises on the balls of her feet, edging forward so that their bodies align. Charlie's tongue darts against the corners of her mouth, and she clutches at his arms, feels a growing bulge press against her hip.

She breaks the kiss with a moan, scrabbles at the fastenings of Charlie's denims impatiently. He draws breath in sharply, reaches to still her hands.

"Claire? Are you--"

Frustrated, she bites back a growl, taking firm hold of his hand and guiding it beneath her skirt, between her legs.

She could almost laugh as his eyes widen, hand pressed against the damp heat of her, but then his fingers twitch in exactly the right way, and she unceremoniously pushes him over to the rock, unbuttoning and unzipping and shoving his denims down. He lands on the rock uncomfortably, and she backs off, yanking her panties down, stepping out of them.

She can see Charlie struggling for coherence, concern and want chasing each other on his face.

"Are you _sure_?" he manages, and then she's straddling his lap, easing herself down, easing him into her and it feels so

damn

good

It's been much, much too long, Claire thinks, and rocks once, hard, against him. She's close, closer than she has any right to be, and she should probably attempt to compose herself, but then his hand reaches between them, rubs just the right way, and he fastens his mouth on that spot on her neck, and Claire's coming, suddenly, sharply, shattering.

When she stops trembling, she finds she's buried her face against Charlie's neck. She raises her head and Charlie lets out a huff of laughter, pressing their foreheads together.

"I didn't know I was that good," he murmurs.

Claire is tempted to contradict him, but then he blinks, and she recognizes yearning in his eyes. She brushes a hand against his neck and feels corded muscle. His hips twitch against her, barely, and she realizes he's holding back.

"Charlie," she reproaches.

"What?" All innocence, though his smile is strained.

Claire rises up on her knees, then slams back down roughly, so much so that she takes her own breath away. Takes his hands in hers, and places them on her hips.

"I won't break," she tells him, and he nods. Thrusts up, eliciting a moan, then another.

Claire thinks, vaguely, that this is bad for her knees, and weren't there blankets around here, and oh.

Charlie's hands slide over her breasts, almost gently, and she ducks her head and kisses him again, muffling whatever obscenity is about to form on his lips, then there's a warm rush of wet, and he slumps against her shoulder.

They stay like that, breathing, for several moments, then Claire's knees rebel and she eases off him with a long sigh, standing and stretching.

"God," Charlie breathes, "sorry."

She laughs. Reaches around him and grabs a blanket, spreads it on the forest floor. "We should lie down." Her back to him, she shucks her tank top, pushes her skirt off her hips, and kneels on the blanket. Looks up at him and smiles.

"Good idea," he replies, then he starts. "What about the baby? What if they need--"

"Kate knows where we are." She pats the ground next to her, and Charlie yanks his T-shirt over his head.

"She does?" He slides out of his shoes and denims, then drops onto the blanket. "Wait a minute." Stares down at it, then at Claire. "You seduced me," he accuses.

"Yeah." She smirks, then tilts her head, bites his collarbone.

His eyes slide shut. "How long have you been planning this?"

Claire considers the question, then takes his hand in hers, raises it to her lips. His eyes flutter open as she takes his index finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue against the tip of it.

A look of surprise replaces the desire in Charlie's eyes. "Since then?"

She nods, releasing his hand with a kiss.

"Well." He smiles in a way that would be a leer from anyone else but him. "Was I worth the wait?"

This time, Claire can't hold back the tart reply.

"I don't know." Then she softens the sting with a quick kiss, almost a peck, and a smile. "Why don't you help me find out?"

Charlie kisses her again, and again, and again.

As they lie slowly back on the blanket, Claire already knows the answer.


End file.
